Chapter 9
The sound of the three hired men leaving the house to settle into the barn for the night had barely faded when James cleared his throat and looked around the dining room table. “Before we all turn in, I think we need to have a family meeting.”
Mrs. Wang stood and began gathering the empty plates from dinner. “I clean up the kitchen—”
“Actually.” He raised a hand to halt her. “We’d like you to take part, if you would. This concerns Rose, and she’s going to need all of us.”
The older woman paused, a stack of plates balanced in her weathered hands, and looked between James and Rose with those sharp eyes. Whatever she saw made her set the dishes back down with a soft clink.
“Of course.” She settled back into her chair, folding her hands in her lap with her usual quiet dignity. “Rose is family.”
His sentiment exactly.
Enoch leaned back in his chair, his piercing gaze moving between James and Rose. “What kind of trouble are we talking about?”
James looked at Rose, waiting for her permission. They’d talked about this on the porch—the need to tell everyone at least the basic details. This way, they could best protect her, and also, they could work together to break Vincent’s control over her permanently.
She’d been hesitant, though she’d agreed. Now, she gave a barely perceptible nod, but her shoulders had gone rigid again.
He turned back to the others, choosing his words with care. “Rose is being pursued by a man named Vincent Dunhill from Virginia City. He’s posted missing person notices offering a fifty-dollar reward for information about her whereabouts.”
Thomas whistled low. “Fifty dollars? That’s serious money.”
Robert studied her. “What’s his connection to you, Rose?”
Rose’s hands clenched in her lap, her knuckles white against the blue fabric of her skirt.
“He was my stepfather,” she said finally, her voice almost too soft to hear. “Mama married him after we left here. When she became ill, he paid for everything. Even…” She swallowed hard, the delicate lines of her throat working against whatever words were trying to escape. “The funeral expenses.”
Mrs. Wang made a soft sound of sympathy, her face creasing with concern.
“In return.” Rose’s voice gained a little strength. “I signed a contract. Twenty years of performances. Until I’m thirty-five.”
This was too painful, making her answer the questions. He could relay the basic information his family needed. Part of him wanted to close his hand over her clenched ones, anything to help settle her. To let her know she was safe here. But she looked like even that touch might crack her.
At least he could take over the weight of the explanation.
“Vincent has used the contract to control her. To basically keep her prisoner. She sneaked away to come to us, but now he’s looking for her.
Rose said he has a lot of connections, men who will help accomplish what he wants, even if it’s not quite lawful.
” He met each of his brothers’ gazes in turn.
“We’ll need to protect her, and we’ll need to figure out how to break that contract for good. ”
The silence that followed felt heavy, charged with the kind of tension that preceded mountain storms. Thomas’s easy smile had faded. Mandie’s hand covered her belly. Enoch’s jaw tightened with controlled anger.
Robert leaned forward, his lawyer’s mind already working. “A twenty-year contract signed by a fifteen-year-old?” His voice carried a sharp edge. “Rose, do you have a copy of this document?”
She shook her head. “Vincent kept all the papers in his office. He said it was safer that way.”
“Of course he did.” Robert’s tone turned grim. “Rose, I need you to understand something. A contract signed by a minor under duress—especially one involving twenty years of labor—that’s not just unenforceable, no legitimate court would uphold such a thing.”
Hope flickered in Rose’s green eyes, fragile as candlelight in a draft. But it was quickly shadowed by fear. “Vincent has friends in the territorial government. Judges, lawyers, men who owe him favors. He’s made that very clear over the years. He says the law will always side with him.”
Enoch leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table.
“He’s not the only one with connections.
Our father is the Duke of Clarence, distant cousin of Queen Victoria.
I know that’s in England and this is America, but we still have a long list of people in the Montana Territory and beyond who would be more than willing to listen to the facts of the case, especially when their attention is requested by the Duke of Clarence or one of his sons. ”
Rose straightened, and something that looked almost like hope crossed her features. “You’re titled aristocracy.” She spoke as though testing the words. “I’d forgotten.”
“Most people out here have.” Enoch’s smile held a hint of irony. “But the connections remain. Vincent Dunhill may have territorial judges in his pocket, but he doesn’t have access to federal courts. Or to the kind of legal minds we can call on.”
So many emotions played across Rose’s face—hope warring with years of learned caution. Her hands had unclenched in her lap, though she still held herself with that brittle tension he’d come to recognize as her armor against the world.
“Good.” Robert’s expression grew more confident, the analytical mind James had always admired clearly working through the legal implications. “From what you’ve described, Rose, this contract should be easily proven invalid. We just need a copy of it.”
Rose’s face went ashen, and his gut clenched. That fragile hope that had been building in her eyes flickered and died like a candle in a sudden wind.
“I don’t have a copy.” Her voice turned quiet again. “Vincent insisted on keeping my copy with all the other papers associated with my work. He said they belonged in ‘our’ office at Murphy’s—that’s the saloon where I performed. He said it was more professional that way, more secure.”
The silence that followed felt suffocating. Rose shrank back into herself, her shoulders curving inward as though she were trying to disappear entirely. Every line of her body spoke of defeat, a woman who’d allowed herself to hope for a moment only to have that hope crushed again.
“Of course he kept them,” Thomas muttered. “Can’t have his property knowing exactly what rights she might have.”
Robert pinched his lips together as he thought. “We’ll see what we can do without it then.” He looked to Enoch. “Think we should telegraph Father for a list of solicitors and judges to speak with?”
Enoch nodded. “Someone can ride to town to send it as soon as we finish the haying.” He glanced toward James, almost like he was looking for approval of the plan.
As much as James hated to wait the three or four days that would take, he couldn’t deny the desperate need to get the hay in before the snow came.
It could mean life or death for their herds through the winter.
And hopefully, a few days’ delay in their efforts to free Rose wouldn’t matter, since she would be safe and protected here on the ranch.
So he gave his brother a small nod, then glanced at Rose to make sure she understood the reason for the delay.
She looked hesitant, as though she didn’t quite follow what they were thinking.
He dropped his voice lower, just for her. “If we don’t get the hay cut and stored before the first snow, we’ll lose it. But the moment that’s done, I’ll take the telegram to town. You’re safe here with us though. Vincent won’t be able to find you here.”
She searched his gaze, and he let her see his certainty. Even if the man did somehow search out her location, he and his brothers would die before letting her go back to that slavery.
At last, she nodded. “Thank you.” She moved her gaze around the table to each person sitting there. “Thank you all.”
Mrs. Wang reached across the wooden surface. “You are home now, child. We take care of you.”